Just though I’d make a quick “Sound of Music” reference seeing as how I live 30 minutes away from the Von Trapps…

Maybe that was a bit insensitive. Anyway.

First of all, I want to say, it’s not you, it’s me. Although we had our ups and downs, overall, I think you were pretty good to me. I really want to say thank you. Thank you for being a great year. But now? Now it’s time for us to part ways. While I’m sad to see you go, you must understand that I have to move on, to look forward. And yes, I must admit, I have another year waiting in the wings. I’d like to think you approve, even though it does mean I’m leaving you. I’m just hoping 2013 treats me as well as you have.

You gave me The Peach. How freaking awesome is that? She is a joy and a delight, and I will remember you always as a special year simply for that gift alone. I do have to say, you rushed by awfully quickly with the first 350 days of her development. I know I missed a few things and I wish you had taken your time and been a bit tender with me on that. I suppose I can forgive you, I know you didn’t have a choice in the matter. In spite of that, I enjoyed every fleeting moment with her, even the screaming, crying, poopy, pukey, snotty ones.

You helped Princess Punk grow up (a bit). Not only in a temporal sense but as a person in general. She’s a phenomenal person, and you were the one, the year she made the transition from girl to woman. I look at pictures of her with that snarky 2011 (if you happen to see 2011, don’t tell them I said that) and she still looks like a kid. I look at her with you? I see a young adult, ready to burst into the world although, now that I think about it, maybe you could have been a little less hasty since she doesn’t always seem to be ready for all that responsibility. You were a good year to her through all the hissy-fits, drama, D Monster and all. You were always there and you helped us make it, one day at a time.

Oh, and let’s not forget The Zen Master. You really outdid yourself there. I think that was the most inconspicuous thing you brought to our relationship but he was the glue that kept it all together, even when you were being shitty to me. And yes, let’s face it, you were shitty to me at times. Downright abusive once or twice, to me personally and to others (and yeah, I know there were others but that’s okay). I know you’re sorry and even though you beat me down to the ground a few times, you helped me back on my feet again. You promised to be nice and never do it again and you persuaded me to move along with you. And I’m glad I did.

Yeah, and I gotta mention the blog too. Although it got kinda sporadic at the end there, I really appreciate that and the fact that you brough so many people along with you. Pretty cool.

You did so many nice things for me, I can’t even name them all (although I did document a lot of them here). I am so sorry I have to do this. Please know I will always remember you fondly and although I must move on, you will always have a place in my heart.

I took a break from posting for a bit after the awfulness in CT. Mostly because I was just at a loss for words about the utter sorrow and anger about the whole situation. And the fact that people are traumatized every day throughout the world and I felt like talking about the shooting would somehow lessen what happened to them. The shooting in Newtown was a horrible tragedy and because of the scope of the devastation, it became the top thought on everyone’s mind. But as a survivor of a violent act myself, I don’t want to forget all the other people out there that have suffered trauma at the hands of another person. I’ve been pondering what to say for a bit. That, mixed with the impending holiday tomorrow and thoughts on how it will be so painful for so many, in Newtown, in my town and around the world, has left me, at least for the moment, quiet. I’m going to begin posting again after Christmas, after I spend some time with My Mom, My Dad, The Zen Master, Princess Punk and The Peach and all my other family and friends that I treasure so dearly.

Okay… So I know that putting alcohol into The Peach’s bottle would be considered… Wrong.

Where can I get these????

But I gotta say the thought did cross my mind.

I think she purposefully lulled us into a false sense of security. She was so good from about 2 months old… Asleep by 8:30, woke up maybe once or twice, slept until 5.

We got spoiled. And now we’re paying the price.

Between 8 and 9 last night my youngest child was possessed. Griping, complaining and finally screaming until I brought her into bed with me and snuggled her (rather tightly) until she passed the f*** out. The Zen Master put her in her crib around 9:30 and came back to bed and promptly passed the f*** out himself. For the next several hours, I listened to my spawn wake up every 20 minutes or so and briefly grump and cry while I held my breath to see if she would go back to sleep on her own. Just before midnight, she awoke again, and this time did not go back to sleep. I opened her door to find her standing in her crib, grabbing the bars like some death-row inmate, sweaty and red-faced with tears and snot smeared all over her face.

It was not cute.

She spent the rest of the night in bed with us.

The Zen Master and I spent the rest of the night trying valiantly to ignore the persistent grumpy mumbles, kicks, pokes and head butts as well as the accompanying 15 degree rise in temperature that child seems to exude. My little sunshine my ass.

And this morning, when my alarm went of for the fourth time, The Peach sat bolt upright in my bed, smacked me in the face, grinned and then promptly squiggled to the edge of the bed where my reflexes were just good enough to grab her ankle before she hurtled, head first, onto the wood floor.

I have discovered, there is a fine line between trusting or having faith in people and being a completely gullible ass.

This is a lesson I really should have hammered firmly into my brain by now. I have very few people in my life (I think probably 2) that I can actually count on to do what they say they’re going to do, when they say they’re going to do it.

Everyone else can bite me.

There are less than 2 weeks until Christmas. I have nothing for Princess Punk, nor do I have any idea where to start. My plan had been to refurbish this POS laptop for her once I received my “new” computer that was pledged to me. I can’t bring the POS in to get it fixed up until I get the new computer because I actually need to have a laptop of some sort myself. And with 13 days left, I no longer have enough time to get it done.

And I can’t really afford to do anything else.

And My Mom bought her a Nook Tablet (after I asked repeatedly that she not do that). So I’m going to end up giving The Princess something lame like a pair of earrings that she’s not even going to wear and My Mom gets to be ~AWESOME~ yet again.

I wanted to give the Awesome gift, just once.

And, because I made the mistake of depending on someone who has left me in the lurch in the past, I am now stuck scrambling to find something to give my first born child that doesn’t suck balls.

I should know better. I really, really, really should. Especially since this “new” computer was in part supposed to be reimbursement for the several hundred dollars I loaned her several YEARS ago. I can’t even remember how much or when because it was that long ago. I’ve never been bitter about loaning money to friends, or even to people I don’t even know that well, as long as I have it. I generally figure if I have it to loan then no problem, and while I would like to get paid back eventually, if I don’t, I don’t stress it. You see, I have this basic belief that if you help out someone in need, it’ll come back to you eventually. I tend to assume that if I lend you some money, you’ll pay me back when you can. And if I happen to be desperate for some money to say, pay my fuel bill while 9 months pregnant and my husband is laid off for the season, you might actually help me out instead of posting on facebook about your amazing new whatchamacallit that cost almost $200.

And you know, that’s not even really the issue. Because I will never let money get in the way of friendship. My problem is that I believe you should be able to count on your friends, your parents, your children, your bosses, your spouse.

I can count on The Zen Master for pretty much anything. There’s been some minor miscommunications and a few instances of “Whoops!” But if he says he is going to do something, he does it. Period.

I can also count on Crazy Girl. She is super busy, and can’t always stop by and visit when she says she might, but she’s also never solidly committed to being somewhere and not shown up. I loaned her $100 a few weeks ago because her account got screwed up and some bill was going to hit her account 2 days before her paycheck. She wrote me a post-dated check to make sure I would get the $100 back into my account before my mortgage payment hit even if I didn’t see her.

There’s no one else.

My Mom? She loves me heart and soul and she tries, but her problem is she always says yes when I ask her something and then changes her mind about it later. Which tends to leave me in the lurch sometimes.

When my friend said she couldn’t send the box because she couldn’t afford the shipping I asked if she could ship it COD… I figure that will still be less than trying to buy something for The Princess. Her reply?

“Hang on, let me check.”

…

Nothing.

So now, desperately searching around for something to give my 13 year old that will be as appreciated as the Nook My Mom is giving her.

In 7.5 hours, I will have woken and changed The Peach, taken my meds, arranged my meds for the rest of the day, packed my lunch, observed The Princess pack her lunch, make sure Princess Punk has checked her sugar, eaten breakfast, packed her B-ball shoes and shorts and clean underwear and a towel so she can shower after practice. This would be occurring simultaneously while giving The Peach her breakfast, making sure the half-asleep Zen Master is ready to be on “Dad duty” (heh… duty) since he’s all groggy because I dragged him to My Mom’s house to watch the midget while the older womens (that would be My Mom, Princess Punk and myself) made sugar cookies and biscotti and boxed up goodies to send as presents since we’re not buying anything this year. And my nut butter crunch is WAY better than a lame-ass gift card. Oh, and since The Peach is currently squarely in the middle of our bed, I’m anticipating he won’t get much sleep anyway.

I am wired right now. A combination of too much caffeine, too late in the day and being about 2 hours off on my meds has made it virtually impossible to sleep at the moment. And I’m wicked excited. I think people are really going to like the stuff we’re making. My Mom made fruitcakes, and not the stereotypical ones that people tend to re-gift every year, but rich, decadent, sweet, luscious cake drenched in so much bourbon (actually I think it was brandy this year?) that you are guaranteed to fail a breathalyzer after one slice. Princess Punk? Sugar Cookies, decorated with frosting and festive sprinkles and molded chocolate candies made from milk chocolate and a little Aztec cocoa to give it a unique spicy flavor. Oh, and she’s decorating those too. And Me? Mrs. Newlife has made several pounds of nut butter crunch and about 3-4 dozen almond biscotti, half of which were dipped in chocolate. And I must admit… I’ve sampled everything but the fruitcake although if I had been present when It was made, you can be sure there’s be a lot less than what she has now.